Sleeping With Ghosts

Well when you go
Don't ever think I'll make you try to stay,
And maybe when you get back,
I'll be off,
To find another way

When after all this time that you still owe
You're still a good-for-nothing I don't know,
So take your gloves and get out,
Baby get out
While you can

When you go
And would you even turn to say,
I don't love you like I did yesterday

Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading
So sick and tired of all the needless beating,
But baby when they knock you down and out
Is where you oughta stay

And after all the blood that you still owe
Another time was just another blow
So fix your eyes and get up
Baby, get up
While you can

When you go
And would you even turn to say
I don't love you like I did yesterday

Well come on, come on

When you go
Would you have the guts to say
I don't love you like I loved you yesterday

I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday

I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday

I miss you. I wonder what you're doing now. And I am not sad about our past or how we split apart. Well sometimes, I am sad. When I wonder why you could not be stronger. Or why you always felt the need for someone else to complete you.
I keep dreaming about you. And psychology will tell you that the people in your dreams are only those you recognize so that your mind doesn't wake fitfully, or something along those lines. But the missing you is real. And it's there squeezing me tight in the mornings. An achy hollow tightness that makes breathing hurt. I think I took for granted the fact that you would always be with me. Always a part of my life.

That's my fault. I am like that. I incorporate my friends into a relationship more akin to something like family members. I love them and trust them blindly. Even as I boast and claim not to care. I do.
The end of a friendship is always like a death in my family. Actually, worse. I am quite resilient to losing actual relations - perhaps a by-product of my dubious family history...
Like pets. I would say it is closest to the emptiness I feel when losing a pet. For me, I foster a kind of mother-alligator relationship with my friends. Oh, I will love you fiercer than a mother bear; but if you cross my ass you can bet yours I'm going to pound it. In general, the more I hit you - the more I love you.
But I digress...


I miss you much it is physically hurting me.
I suppose everyone ends up sleeping with ghosts at some point...